Slide Job (Cameron Motorsports)

by Fox, Sutton

  Tears filled her eyes, nearly blinding her. She couldn’t think about this now. Concentrate! Focus! I have to focus or I’ll never make it! Using the wing adjustment to give her more down force, Morgan drove her heart out. Back and forth she worked the wheel. It seemed they’d missed the setup on this go around. The car just wouldn’t handle. Evidently the crew had thought the track would stay wetter than it did. Dry slick in some spots, it was tacky in others. Tires gripping, and then not holding, she searched for a good line around the track. Chest tight and out of breath, she fought for every position.

  The track and the car fought back. Hitting rut after rut, the car threw her ruthlessly from side to side. Sliding into turn four, she pulled up alongside Jim O’Bannon.

  Stanley Morris, a local guy out of Concord, slipped his royal blue car underneath them for a pass. No way, not tonight. Morgan hammered the gas pedal. Pushing the car for all it was worth, she slid into the corner.

  Back past Morris, Morgan took the lead. Finally! The white flag waved as she flew by it, foot to the floor. One more lap. Feathering the throttle in turns one and two, she heard a car next to her.

  Jim’s number seven flashed by her in turn four, scraping her left front tire and sending her into a spin. Careening down the front straightaway, Morgan held on for dear life. One circle, two circles, here comes the wall. She let go of the wheel and closed her eyes. Not again.

  Expecting impact and not feeling any, she opened her eyes in time to see the checkered flag wave above her head. She came to a sliding stop, just past the flag stand.

  Damn. Damn. Damn. Morgan hit the steering wheel in frustration. She’d lost. O’Bannon had pinched her off on purpose; she knew it in her gut.

  The dust settled as Phil arrived on the ATV to push her over to the podium. She waved at him and felt him bump the rear of the car. Slowly it rolled in the direction of the winner’s circle. Or now it could be the loser’s circle.

  The entertainment company had set up a special stage to finish off the reality series tonight. The last two contestants were supposed to appear on stage to await the outcome of the fan vote. The finale was to be filmed live with votes being tallied immediately by phone and internet.

  By the time she reached the area, it was crowded with people. As usual, Blake was there, camera in hand, pointed in her direction. Jack reached in to help her get unbuckled. Morgan hung her helmet from the hook, with gloves tucked inside. She took a deep breath. Losing didn’t come easy. It never had.

  “I’m sorry, Jack. You and Phil worked so hard. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it, little girl. It’s not over yet.” Eyes full of love and sympathy, his touch was gentle as he helped her out of the car. He hugged her. “We’ll make it. We always have, right?”

  “Hey, I thought I saw Mom in the crowd. Have you seen Dad yet?” Morgan knew he would have been in the pits to watch the race with Jack. He didn’t like watching from the grandstands. Stepping out of his embrace, Morgan noticed his eyes filled with tears.

  “Jack, wha—”

  Steve appeared and cut her off. “Morgan, we need you on the stage near the podium. You can talk to Jack later. The commercial break is almost over.” He reached for her hand. Confused by Jack’s reaction, she let herself be led away. Her eyes stayed glued to Jack’s, trying to read what he couldn’t or wouldn’t say out loud.

  Cameras flashed and people milled about like cattle in a feedlot. Everywhere she looked people were smiling and laughing. Moving up the stairs to the dais, she could see Jim holding his trophy high in the air, his crew all decked out in Haskell’s Performance uniforms.

  She glanced down at her own bare uniform and felt a small tug of satisfaction. It had taken her a whole afternoon from Ohio to North Carolina, to clip off the logos. Thread by thread. The pleasure it gave her more than made up for it.

  It had taken another whole day and thirty cans to spray white paint over the Haskell logos on her car and the hauler. It looked like crap, but it was better than giving those jerks any more credit than they deserved. Thanks to that lovely article, everyone knew she didn’t have a sponsor, so why pretend? The look on Johnny Haskell’s face had been priceless. He’d truly thought she’d leave them on, rather than be embarrassed. Showed what he knew, the dirt bag. Blades didn’t bow and scrape to anyone, money or not.

  Butch Cameron’s strong voice echoed through the sound system. “Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, two of the best sprint car drivers in the country.” With a wave of his hand he introduced them to the screaming crowd. “Jim O’Bannon and Morgan Blade!”

  Standing above the cheering fans, she watched the people moving about. Scanning the faces, Morgan looked for her family. Where were they? Oh, there was Mom, and Damon tugging Kristi along behind. They weren’t smiling, or cheering. Slowly they made their way to the front, stopping directly beneath her. Standing next to them, Stephanie waved at her, holding a wiggling, waving Annie in her arms.

  She couldn’t help herself, she smiled and waved back. Dad, where’s Dad? Once more, her gaze passed over each individual. Finally her gaze came to rest on her mother’s face, vivid in grief. Tears she hadn’t been close enough to see before slowly made their way down her mother’s pale cheeks. Brown eyes locked to blue. Hands held out palms upward, she uttered one soft word.

  “Dad?”

  The negative shake of her mother’s head told Morgan everything she needed to know.

  Her vision spiraled. Everything blurred. She dropped to her knees, consumed by grief.

  She looked outward and watched from a faraway place as Lynn did indeed hold her mother tight as she cried. Lynn raised her head and their eyes met. “I’m sorry. So sorry.” She couldn’t hear the words, but simply read her friend’s lips and body language.

  Unable to take any more, still on her knees, Morgan bowed her head. Oblivious to the crowds and cameras, she buried her face in her hands, and wept.

  She’d lost. Everything.

  The realization of just how much she’d lost stunned her. Rocking back and forth, she cradled her pain. Her father was gone. All this effort had been in vain. He’d left her anyway. She needed him, dammit. How could he leave her?

  Morgan wanted to stand up and howl with rage and sorrow. The weight of it crushed her. There would be no prize money. It would be her responsibility alone to shut down what was left of her father’s racing operation. How would they go on? Who would provide for her mom and Damon?

  A tornado of emotions whirled her in their tight grip. She wiped at the tears falling unchecked down her face, but it did no good. They wouldn’t stop.

  “Morgan. Morgan, are you all right?” Butch’s soft whisper belied the strong hands that lifted her to her feet.

  Hiccupping, she couldn’t get the words out. “My...it’s my...” Brushing at her running nose and taking a deep shaking breath she tried again. “My dad.”

  Butch held her gently against his big chest, and stroked her hair. “I know. Your mother told me. I’m so sorry. He’d be so proud of you right now.”

  “How could he be proud,” she hiccupped, “when I lost?” Tears fell unchecked, dripping off of her chin.

  In the background Morgan could hear the announcer’s voice talking about sponsors, going over the prize money and the racing contract. All things that didn’t matter anymore. The faceless voice said computers were hard at work tallying all the votes, with fifteen minutes to go. Fifteen minutes of hell.

  Please, let me sink into the ground. Let it swallow me whole.

  “Morgan!” Annie’s voice carried high above the noise and cut sharply through Morgan’s pain. She looked down to see Annie in Tyler’s arms. It looked like she was reaching for the stage, struggling somehow.

  Tyler. A fresh wave of sadness washed her away with the thought of him. Leaning her head into Butch’s chest once more, she mourned. It was over. She’d never see Tyler or Annie again. What reason would there be? Loving him wouldn’t be enough.

  What?


  A flash of insight gave her truth. Stripped to the core, she loved him. And his beautiful little girl. Too late. She’d faced the truth with no time left. The show was over. Tyler would go back to California or Tennessee. She’d go back to Colorado, to try and put the pieces together, one more time.

  Something pulled her arm. Annie had somehow made it on the stage and took her hand, pulling her from Cameron’s grasp. Childish hands reached for her neck. “Up, Morgan, up.”

  Seeing no alternative, Morgan picked her up, balancing the precious bundle on her hip. She inhaled deeply, the little girl smell soothing her battered heart. Of their own accord, tears leaked from her eyes again. Willing them to stop, she snuffled and tried to wipe her eyes with her free hand.

  “Don’t cry, Morgan.” Smiling and unaware, Annie wiped at her tears with both hands. She cried harder. “Its okay, Morgan. You didn’t go upside down.” The child tried to comfort, not knowing the source of Morgan’s pain.

  Trying to smile for Annie’s benefit, Morgan let out a flimsy laugh. “No, I didn’t, did I?”

  Squirming, Annie pushed against Morgan’s shoulders, wanting now to be put down. Kids, jeez. There was no pleasing them. She slid the child to her feet and watched as Annie bent over.

  Morgan couldn’t help herself. She smiled through her tears as Annie bent from the waist. Without a care in the world, butt facing the audience and the cameras. What the heck was she doing?

  Annie stood up and turned to Morgan. Innocence cut right to the heart of the matter. She held her own dusty shoe in her small hand. Reaching out, she gave it to Morgan. Lightning blue, Annie’s gaze met her own as the soft words struck her sorrow-filled heart.

  “I love you, Morgan.”

  Chapter 20

  The last show was over. Another hit for Hanover Entertainment. Tyler felt nothing but relief as he stood quietly by the car, allowing Morgan to say goodbye to her father. Alone.

  Sam Hanover was furious Morgan had won. Tyler smiled thinking of it. The old coot. He’d threatened to void Tyler’s contract. So what? Tyler had tried to tell him from the beginning, the fan vote at the end decided everything.

  Who could’ve guessed Jim’s article would strike such a chord with the fans? Instead of embarrassing Morgan and making her look incompetent, it gave everyone an underdog to root for. And to vote for.

  Blake had done a great job of filming Morgan onstage weeping. Annie handing Morgan her shoe had sealed it. More votes poured in during the last fifteen minutes of the show than in all his other series combined.

  Watching Morgan stand and brush dirt from the knees of her jeans, he walked toward her. His woman. It felt good to think it. It felt right.

  He kept a team of attorneys on retainer for items like Sam Hanover and Jim O’Bannon. Jim was threatening to sue him, Hanover, and anyone else he could think of. Now his lawyers could damn well earn their keep.

  Tyler smiled tenderly at Morgan. What a woman. Like his daddy said. Tough as nails, soft as butter-cream frosting. One hell of a combination. It made his heart sing. He licked his lips thinking about it.

  His time belonged to him now, to do with as he wished. What he wished would be to wake up every day and see this lovely woman’s face just like it was now. Smiling up at him, eyes full of love.

  Between Morgan and Annie, he had no doubt his life would be full of joy.

  *

  For the second time in as many weeks, Morgan knelt in the dirt. Dappled sunlight filtered through summer green leaves overhead. It cast a rippling pattern on the mound of wilted flowers. She grabbed a handful of dirt and worked it through her fingers as she spoke softly.

  “I won, Daddy. I won.” Her eyes filled, but the tears didn’t fall. “I wish you could have been there. I looked like a fool. I sat on the stage and cried like a baby. On national television!” A small laugh escaped her and she sat back on her heels. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d made a fool of herself, just maybe the biggest.

  “The crowd went crazy. That jerk, O’Bannon. So sure he’d won. Well, truth be known, I’d thought he’d won too. They announced me as the winner and he acted like he lost his mind. I’m standing there with my mouth hanging open, gaping like a fish. He starts screaming at me about writing another slimy article and how he was going to sue everyone. It was wild. He had a real shiner, too.” She didn’t have any idea how he’d come by that. She distinctly remembered hitting him in the chin.

  Morgan marveled at the serenity she felt, here amid the headstones. She knew her father’s stone would be placed here. For now only a mass of flowers marked his spot, next to Lily’s. Acceptance filled her with a sense of tranquility. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t change the past.

  Letting go was so tough. She’d finally come to understand what her father had been trying to tell her for so many years. Moving forward didn’t have to mean forgetting. But she had to let go of the pain or it would consume her. It wasn’t meant to keep. That’s what the memories were for. Just like Lily’s shoe, it was gone. Maybe it was time.

  She sat forward silently, her hands resting on her thighs, contemplating life’s ever-changing tapestry.

  “I’m glad you’re not suffering anymore. Mom told me you felt great up until the end. Going in your sleep.” She shrugged her shoulders, looking up at the red-winged hawk soaring in the cerulean sky. “You’ll watch over my Lily, won’t you, Daddy?”

  It felt good, somehow, having this last moment with him. “You were right, you know. I have to move forward. For the better.” Morgan picked at the dried leaves on the mass of flowers. “I’ll miss that, most. Your being right so much of the time. You never stopped believing in me. Not for a moment. Thank you, Daddy.”

  A single tear made its way slowly down her cheek to fall unnoticed in the dirt.

  “I wish you could have met Tyler. Mom says he’s a good man, like you. And he has the sweetest little girl. Named Annie.” Emerald leaves whispered in the breeze ruffling her hair, soft as a father’s touch.

  She looked toward the parking lot, and saw Tyler moving in her direction. The hawk’s call drew her gaze upward. She watched it circle, swoop down, then skyward, and fly off into the distance. It seemed appropriate. A last goodbye, a new beginning. Her father laid to rest here, yet his soul flew high and free, and his love would live forever in her heart.

  Standing, she brushed the dirt from her knees, and reached out to the man who made the hope in her heart flare to life. She knew what she had to do. His hand felt warm holding hers. Morgan marveled at the feeling as they walked back to the car. Thinking back to their last night in North Carolina, she shook her head.

  When the fifteen minutes were up, Butch Cameron had announced to everyone that she’d won. It had totally floored her.

  Tyler had climbed on the stage and swung her around in circles, kissing her on television! The gossip rags were in full swing, having a field day. Feeling like a fool for blaming him about the article, she’d apologized right away. He’d just laughed it off, saying it didn’t matter.

  Butch had given them the use of his private jet. Everyone flew back home for Daddy’s funeral. He’d even had some of his crewmen drive the hauler back so Jack and Phil could fly home too.

  Tyler stayed with her the whole time, doing everything he could to help and smooth things out. Her mother adored him.

  She glanced sideways at him when he lightly brushed the tear from her cheek. Knowing he loved her still made her dizzy.

  “Are you sure you forgive me for thinking you wrote that article?”

  The sound of his laughter warmed her heart. “Of course I forgive you. I told you that.” Tyler squeezed her hand, and then brought it to his lips for a kiss. “It was an honest mistake.”

  Her heart full, she stopped to hug him. “Are you sure you won’t mind living in North Carolina?”

  Acting exasperated, he picked her up and swung her around, her legs locked on his waist. “If I minded, I wouldn’t have suggested it. It’s an hour and a hal
f flight to Nashville. With the time change, it’s a half hour tops. No big deal.”

  Her elbows resting on his shoulders, Morgan placed a hand on either side of his face, looking deeply into his eyes. “If we’re going to do this, I guess I better make an honest man out of you. Will you marry me?”

  Tyler kissed her thoroughly, and then answered without hesitation.

  “As you wish.”

  Morgan gazed over his shoulder at the mound of flowers, and smiled.

  Acknowledgements

  Many thanks to my critique partners Autumn, Kate, and Morgan, I’d be lost without your expertise, friendship and support. To the rest of you: Mandi, Kimberly, Kate, KJ, Mary, Cindy, Deb, Carol and Darcy. Each of you touched this story in your own way and helped to make it shine. You have my gratitude.

  About The Author

  An avid reader since childhood, Sutton was captured early by the written word. As a teenager she filled notebook upon notebook with angst-ridden poetry or dramatic short stories, and spent many hours making up tales on long walks home from school. Many years passed, and then came the day she realized she wanted to share her stories with the world.

  She currently enjoys the life of a mostly full time writer. When not writing, Sutton listens to all kinds of music, gardens, and travels.

  A native Coloradan, Sutton now calls the bluegrass state of Kentucky home. One she happily shares with the love of her life, a dog and two cats.

  Would she consider herself a woman living her dreams with passion? Absolutely!

  Sutton loves to hear from readers. You can find her around the web at:

  Website: http://www.suttonfox.com

  Blog: http://suttonfox.blogspot.com/